


Hold Me(Before I Shake To Pieces)

by BearWritesThings (Halaani)



Series: Intertwined [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Descriptions of Anxiety, M/M, Minor Depiction of Child Abuse, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halaani/pseuds/BearWritesThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam grew up all of his life with a fear in the back of his head, planted there from the time his Mark showed up by his parents. It's a crippling a fear, one that drives him away from his Fated lovers, leaving everyone in turmoil as they try to figure out how to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me(Before I Shake To Pieces)

Some days, Adam felt like he was the luckiest man in the world. He had six of the best men as his Fated and they loved him, as foreign as that still was to him at times. They knew his quirks and tics and they cared for him regardless. He got to wake up surrounded in love and affection and he felt great joy. And a little spite for his parents, if he was honest.

Other days he felt like he was the worst human in existence. Worthless. Ugly. Unfit to be loved. He felt like he broke everything he touched, like his Fated were disgusted by his very presence. He flinched away from their touches, shied away from their words and tried to cover it up in a false smile, too bright on his face, too dull in his eyes. On those days he felt like a little kid again, like he was facing down his father's belt, his mother's voice howling about what he freak he was.

Those days were becoming more and more common, and it scared him. No, it _terrified_ him. It weighed on him like cold iron chains and he hated it, hated that fear. It was in the tremble in his hands, in the loss of his appetite and in that draining insomnia that left him wandering the streets at night outside of his home, eyes wild and breath ragged.

He tried talking to people, to his friends, to his uncles and aunts who accepted him and he even tried a few professionals. It wasn't depression, it was anxiety. Well that did him no good. He'd known he'd had anxiety for the longest time. But why was it getting worse? He was in such a good place in his life that he didn't want to be feeling these things. Patience, the counseled him. Talk to your Fated, they coaxed.

Adam stopped listening after that. Didn't they get it? In his long experience, using his words never helped him. Words got him beat, words got him locked in his room. He knew they'd never beat him, there wasn't a violent bone in their bodies, but did he dare approach them when there was still every possibility that could push him away, lock him out of their homes, out of their lives? No way.

So he struggled alone, drifting from them in fear, in self-preservation. He would distance himself before they could push him away. He would be ready when that day came, when they got sick of him, realized how broken he was, how useless he was to them. And it would hurt, it could very well kill him, if only because he felt his love for them so deeply that to have it ripped away would take away his very will to live.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bruce watched Adam with concern, hands white knuckled on his cup. The man was hunched at his desk, working sluggishly over something, at this point Bruce didn't even care, as he did his level best to continue to block them out. He looked exhausted and he'd lost a considerable amount of weight. The fans were commenting in almost every video now, noticing his physical and emotional decline, how he almost never smiled or laughed in a way that wasn't faked, wasn't forced. How he didn't touch any of them anymore and how he shied away from them touching him.

They didn't need the reminder that their Fated, their ball of sunshine, was slipping from them and they had no idea why. He only rarely stayed over now, and he flinched away from them like he was afraid he was going to be struck. He made himself smaller when they walked by and he was soft of voice when he spoke. Shy. Scared. Submissive.

_Wrong._

Bruce sighed again and set aside his cup, rising from his desk to walk over to Adam. He kept a respectful distance and Adam disengaged himself from his computer to turn towards him, eyes downcast. Bruce did his best to keep his voice gentle when he spoke, afraid he would startle their now-fragile lover. "Adam, you're exhausted. Go to my house. Eat, sleep, don't do anything else. Nothing's going to get done while your like this and we're worried. We'll be home for dinner. We just want you to rest."

Bruce was unable to miss the flinch at his words, but with Adam's face down he didn't see the look of agony, of sad determination that flashed on his face, in his eyes as he turned back around with a quiet "sure thing, Bruce." as he shut down his computer. Once his rig was shut down he grabbed his bag and left the room without a word.

He knew what he had to do now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Hey guys?" Bruce looked up from where he was thumbing absently through his mail. They'd come back to his house to pick up Adam before going to James' place for the night. Bruce couldn't help but hear the tiny edge of panic that had crept into Joel's voice and he stopped. "Adam's keys are gone." There's a moment where no one moved, no one said a word and then they burst into action. Between the six of them it took almost no time to scour the house and come up empty handed. Adam's wasn't there anymore.

"Get in the car." Lawrence's voice brooked no argument and, in that moment Bruce doubted anyone would have come up with one. They piled into the van and Lawrence drove them, only barely obeying the traffic laws if only to avoid being pulled over. Adam's house was a half hour away with traffic and it felt like an eternity, like they'd never get there. 

Finally they pulled in and Bruce's heart sank again. Adam's car was nowhere to be found. Using the key the other man had given him nearly a year ago, Bruce opened the door for everyone. Inside was cold, silent, seeming more like a museum exhibit than a home as they stood there. The cats didn't rush to greet them, Adam's shoes and hoodie were gone from the entry way.

Ice flood Bruce, terror and denial warring through him as he took a few wooden steps into the house. The others rushed past him to search frantically, each returning with more news, each bit worse than the last. The bed was stripped, his duffle was gone, nothing was there. Lastly, Spoole returned from the kitchen, sobbing quietly, a letter clutched in his hand. Joel rushed forward to comfort him while Matt grabbed the letter, his own hands trembling so hard it took him a moment to get a grasp where he could read it. 

"Adam is...Adam left."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Griffon looked over at the counter where Geoff's cellphone sat, gently ringing. There was no one in their house but them and they were fully planning on taking advantage of the time alone. Well, until Geoff's stupid phone started going off. Sighing, Geoff made to reach for it, arm flapping uselessly until Griffon laughed at him and reached over him for it, sliding it open without checking the caller ID. After all, it wasn't uncommon for them to answer each other's phones.

"Hello?" She asked, trailing her fingers lazily over Geoff's shoulder. There was no response for a minute and so she pulled away briefly to check the caller ID. Adam Kovic. She'd met the man a few times on some of Funhaus' trips down to Austin. He was a sweetheart, eager to please and humble. She liked him. "Adam?" She asked again as Geoff shifted a little to watch her.

There was a quiet sound on the other end of the line, a sorrowful whimper and her internal alarms were immediately ringing, mother bear mode kicking in almost instantly. "Sweetie it's Griffon. What's wrong?" She coaxed.

_"I'm uh- I'm at the airport and there's no cabs outside and I don't know what to do and my phone is gonna die and-"_ His voice cracked and she knew the younger man had to be close to tears, if he wasn't already crying.

"What's wrong?" Geoff asked, voice gone sharp from what little he could hear from the other end of the line. Griffon hushed Adam gently, promised to be back on the line in a moment before she turned to her husband. 

"Adam's at the airport in the rain. He doesn't sound good Geoff." She was worried, already climbing out of bed and handing the phone to Geoff so she could get dressed and prepare the house for thier impromptu guest. 

"Adam, Adam. Deep breath buddy." Geoff paused for a minute. "Griffon and I will be there soon, so I want you to go inside out of the rain and hang up. Text us where you are and we'll come for you, okay?" There was a tiny sound on the other end before Geoff ended the call, hurrying out of bed to get dressed as well. Griffon was finished preparing the guest suite when he was dressed and was checking the fridge for food as he grabbed his keys.

They drove through the rain, luckily there was hardly any traffic, and twenty minutes after the phone call Griffon pulled into the pickup zone. Geoff darted inside, looking for the Starbucks Adam had texted him. Sure enough, after a few minutes of hurried walking, he found the younger man hunched at a corner booth, shaking hands wraped around an untouched coffee. Geoff sucked a breath as he looked on him. 

He'd seen videos recently, knew that Adam hadn't been doing too great, but to see him in person yanked on his heartstrings. He was thin, like he'd lost too much weight too fast, and there were deep bruises under his dull eyes. His beard was unkempt, his hair lack luster and his whole body seemed to tremble as his eyes cast about him wildly.

"Adam." He called, voice going gentle, cajoling, without him even realizing and the other man whipped towards him, something like relief flashing in his eyes. He stood, grabbed his duffle bag and shuffled over to Geoff, eyes downcast so much like a kicked puppy. Geoff, not caring they were standing in an airport Starbucks at midnight, wrapped his arms around Adam, rubbing his back soothingly when the man gave an exhausted, desolate whine.

"We'll make it right. It'll be okay."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Geoff watched from the door, unconsciously chewing on the lip of the soda bottle he clutched in his hand. Adam was finally asleep again, curled against Griffon in the bed, both of them wrapped in blankets as his wife scratched her fingers through his hair. 

They'd gotten him to their home, had him shower and got him dry clothes. Griffon had enticed him into eating a bowl of cream of wheat and some hot chocolate, but Adam had barely been able to do half of the bowl and a few sips before his complexion turned green and he was pushing the dishes away, apologizing profusely.

Griffon had managed to calm him, assure him they weren't angry and then they'd taken him upstairs. Adam had looked so lost, so sad as they stopped in front of the guest suite that Griffon took charge and instead lead them to the master bedroom, where they'd bundled him under the blankets and bracketed him snugly between them. 

Adam had continued to apologize, to try and fight his way out from between them, arguing that he hadn't wanted to cause them any undue trouble. Griffon had put up with that for all of three seconds before, in her own kind and loving way, she'd talked him down until he lay between them quietly. He'd been tense right up until Geoff and Griffon's kind touches and soft voice coaxed him into sleep.

The night had passed quickly for them. Adam had woken once with nightmares, whimpering out apologies to his Fated as he cried, still half asleep. Griffon had taken the time to sooth him back to sleep, and now it was morning, the gray of dawn just outside their window. Geoff couldn't bear to think about the turmoil Adam had been going through if all his nights had been like this. 

Sighing again and closing the door to give them peace, if only to give Adam a chance to sleep just a few hours more Geoff headed downstairs. He had a phone call to make.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, fingers running absentmindedly through James' hair. The younger man was curled around one of Adam's sweatshirts, his face tear-stained, his breathing still hitching with little sobs. No one, not even himself, was really in any better shape. No one had slept or eaten since it'd been discovered that Adam was gone, worry and despair churning in their guts. 

They'd all been aware of Adam's decline, but they'd been hoping they would have been able to help their lover through his fear. But now Adam was gone, run away because he what? Was afraid of them? Bruce didn't dare think on it. They knew he'd had a shit childhood, the scars on his shoulders were testament enough of that, but they hadn't realized that his parents had done such damage to their lover.

Bruce jolted as his phone buzzed against his thigh and he rushed to answer it, hoping it was Adam, moving out of the room so as not to disturb the others and get their hopes up, even as horrible images flashed in his mind. Adam in a hospital, in a jail cell, his car found wreck. God, Adam _dead._

"Adam?" He whispered hopefully, aware of the shake that had crept into his voice. Instead of his Fated's familiar voice, Geoff's angry words met him.

_"You've got five seconds to explain why Adam showed up in Austin last night, Greene, or we're going to have problems."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Geoff sighed as he hung up. Fuck, what an bunch of idiots, all seven of them. He loved them yeah, but right now he wanted to whack them all upside the head. After hearing what they knew, Geoff had instructed them to fly out in a few days, rested and prepared to work things out with their lover. Now, they just had to get Adam to talk, to be open to making it better. 

He trudged down to the kitchen and started breakfast. Eggs and sausage for he and Griffon and plain oatmeal and ginger ale for Adam. It was more than likely Adam had been barely feeding himself since this all started and he'd be unable to handle any kind of heavy meal for several weeks. 

Geoff had been there before, when that tiny dissenting voice in the back of your head became a roar, when doubts and fears overwrote all things positive and sucked the very joy out of life. He'd done the exact same thing Adam had done and he'd run from Griffon, lovely Griffon who he was sure didn't deserve to be saddled with such a fuck up as him. Luckily, Griffon had taken zero flack from him and brought him back kicking and screaming, using her unending patience and love for him to bring him around.

Now he was going to pay it forward and help these guys out. Because having been where Adam was now, he knew very well that only good help and loving friends would banish that ever pressing darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After breakfast, Griffon wheedled the story out of Adam, the whole story, and Geoff felt sick. Adam spoke of abuse, of fears stretching back all the way to his tenth birthday, when his Mark appeared on his shoulder blade and his parents promptly went off the deep end. Harsh words and hard hands, the crack of a leather belt punctuated his memories, brought a tremble to his body and tears to his eyes. _("You may find them, and they may even love you for a time. But they'll figure it out, figure out that you're a worthless broken freak. And they'll leave you, hate you, and it'll be everything you deserve!)_

They'd held him close as he cried and sobbed his way through it, and it was a cleansing cry, they could tell, and Adam fell deep asleep when he finished. Griffon stayed with him even though he slept until dinner time and neither of them were too far from him afterwards. They praised him when he managed to finish his bowl of rice and beef broth and his tea and Adam seemed confused but pleased. 

Geoff helped him trim his beard back down, as Adam was still too weak and shaky to hold the razor without possibly hurting himself, and for the next few days they simply lazed around, giving Adam time to get his feet under him, to ground himself before his Fated returned.

Griffon had already put her foot down and was going to be returning to LA with them to make sure Adam received the proper care, professional and otherwise, he would need to recover. And finally Saturday rolled around, the day the rest of the Funhaus team was coming to get Adam. Adam himself seemed panicked, pacing around the house, inconsolable again. 

And then there was a knock at the door. Adam froze mid-pace in the living room as Griffon opened the door, revealing the six men crowded there. Geoff and she made themselves scarce to give them privacy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Adam stood, trembling, about as sure of himself in that moment as a newborn lamb. His Fated were standing there, looking like they were five seconds from crying and just relieved to see him there before them. 

Then the tension broke as Spoole darted forward, launching himself into Adam's arms and Adam caught him, tucking his face into the crook of his neck even as Spoole did the same. Both were crying and Adam sobbed out apology after apology as the others rushed to surround them, desperate to touch him, make sure he was there, that he was still alive and in one piece.

Adam wasn't sure how long they cried, how long it took him to choke out the story, an explanation. They just wanted him back, they just wanted him to be happy again. Adam just wanted to go _home._

Eventually their turmoil settled and they merely fell to the floor in a puddle, wrapped around each other. Lawrence bit his lip as Adam's shirt rucked up a little. He could feel Adam's ribs, he was so thin and that was wrong, just wrong. It would take time, he knew for sure, and they'd discussed, knew with no doubt that they would give their all to help Adam back to his previous life and luster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Griffon went home with them that night. They camped at Joel's place, as it was the largest and had enough room to give everyone space. Griffon made appointments with a doctor and therapist that she'd researched and checked over and she showed the other men what needed to be done for Adam. 

The doctor prescribed a vitamin regimen and a strict diet to bring Adam back to a healthy weight and restore all the lost nutrients. The therapist, a younger man with big green eyes and a penchant for wearing beanies and scarves that Adam actually respected and listened to, worked not only with Adam to work through the scars and marks of the abuse he'd suffered in the past, but also worked with all of the Fated. 

He showed them how their body language and their tone of voice and choice of word made everything different, had a different impact on everyone, but especially Adam, who would always be more sensitive to those things from them. He taught them how to use words to bring a natural pleasure to Adam and how to handle to the eventual bouts of anxiety that would come in the future.

_("It's not always words and medicine won't do him a whole lot of good at this point. It's in your actions, gentlemen. That's where he'll find solace, where he'll find relief from his anxiety, from his doubts. It's in your tone, in your touch and in your embrace. It'll never go away completely. There's no magic fix for this and it will come back. But, with good time and good work, you_ can _help him. And I have faith. He's got good Fated.")_

And it did take time. There were days where Adam still flinched from them or slept in a different bed or could only be around some of them. And there were days were he beamed and joked and was the life of a video. Those days were becoming more and more frequent, and it was a thing that brought them great joy. He gained back his weight, his skin and hair became soft and smooth again and the bruises under his eyes disappeared.

He smiled and his eyes sparkled and it was great. Bruce knew that they'd do their level best to make sure it never happened again. It wouldn't happen again so long as they lived, they swore to it. And they never broke their words. 

A year later and Bruce smiled, arms wrapped around Adam as he dozed on the couch, one hand knotted in Matt's hoodie where the other rested in his lap, the other hand tucked against his chest. One of his cats slept on Bruce's shoulder, and the others were close at hand, a movie playing quietly in the background. 

And all was well.


End file.
